“No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough. 'Twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague on both your houses!”

“O, I have bought the mansion of a love but not possessed it, and, though I am sold, not yet enjoyed. So tedious is this day as is the night before some festival to an impatient child that hath new robes and may not wear them.”

“Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name when I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? That villain cousin would have killed my husband.”

"Then 'banished' exile from the world means is death mis-termed. Calling death 'banished,' misnamed thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe and smile'st upon the stroke that murders me."

"Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear. You heard nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree. Believe me, love, it was the nightingale."

“Indeed I never shall be satisfied with Romeo till I behold him - dead - is my poor heart so for a kinsman vexed.”

"Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise: If you be mine, I'll give you to my friend; If you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets, for, by my soul, I'll never acknowledge thee, I gave my word. I will not be forsworn."

"I think it best you married with the Count. O, he's a lovely gentleman! Romeo's a dishclout to him. An eagle, madam, Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye as Paris has. Beshrew my very heart, I think you are happy in this second match, for it excels your first."

"Take thou this vial, being then in bed, and this distilled liquor drink thou off; then presently through all thy veins shall run a cold and drowsy humor; for no pulse no warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest; the roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade."

"Shall I be married then tomorrow morning? No, No! This shall forbid it. Lie thou there. What if it be a poison which the friar subtly hath ministered to have me dead, lest in this marriage he should be dishonored because he married me before to Romeo?"

“Ready to go, but never to return. O son! the night before thy wedding-day. Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies, flower as she was, deflowered by him. Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir; my daughter he hath wedded: I will die, and leave him all; life, living, all is Death’s.”

“Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary on this fair corse; and, as the custom is, In all her best array bear her to church: for though fond nature bids us an lament, yet nature’s tears are reason’s merriment.”

"The world is not thy friend nor the world’s law; The world affords no law to make thee rich; Then be not poor, but break it, and take this."

"This is that banished haughty Montague that murdered my love's cousin — with which grief It is supposed the fair creature died — And here he comes to do some villainous shame to the dead bodies. I will apprehend him."

"Death, that hath suck’d the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty. Thou art not conquered. Beauty’s ensign yet is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, and death’s pale flag is not advanced there."

"I will kiss thy lips. Haply some poison yet doth hang on them To make me die with a restorative. Thy lips are warm! ...O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rest, and let me die."

"Ill-mannered boy! what rudeness thou hast done, to press before thy father to a grave?"

"All this I know, and to the marriage. Her nurse is privy; and if aught in this miscarried by my fault, let my poor life be sacrificed, some hour before his time, unto the rigor of severest law."

"Where be these enemies? Capulet, Montague, see, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, that heaven finds means to kill your joys with love!"